A Promise to Keep Read online

  “I’m saying he’s not available.” He gestured toward the deck. “You want to check it out for yourself, be my guest. Meanwhile, I have things to do.” He angled away from her, heading toward the back of the property from where he’d appeared in the first place. The dog lingered behind, his lip curled up again to deliver his last thoughts before finally trotting off.

  She waited until both beasts had disappeared from sight, and deliberately relaxed her jaw. “Pleasant,” she muttered under her breath, and closed the distance to the deck. She chewed the inside of her lip, looking underneath it, and then straightened again.

  She hoped it was sounder than it looked as she gingerly went up the creaking steps. She stepped her way around the missing boards, then stopped in front of the door, knocking several times. Loudly.

  There was no answer.

  She exhaled and walked to the far end of the deck, where it wasn’t projecting off the edge of the cliff. She looked off to the side of the house. There was no sign of man—young or old. No sign of the dog.

  She tried knocking on the front door again, to no avail.

  She still wasn’t inclined to believe that Lambert had forgotten the appointment.

  She returned to the steps and sat down on the top one, feeling relatively secure since there was at least solid earth beneath the wood, in case her rear end went through it. She dragged her briefcase onto her lap and delved inside. She pulled out her cell phone and checked it for a signal, not surprised there was none. There were still many places around Weaver where cell signals didn’t yet reach. At times, like now, it was entirely frustrating. At others, when a person wanted to get entirely away from the outside world, it was an absolute delight. Remained to be seen what Gage would do about that fact.

  She shook her hair out of her eyes as she slid the phone back in its pocket and took out a business card and a pen instead.

  * * *

  “What’s she doing out there now?”

  Jed frowned, looking out one of the square, high-set windows. “Still sitting on the step.” She’d been there a solid thirty minutes now. As if she were waiting for Otis to drive up the broken road. He glanced at his boss. “Next time you think twice about keeping a meeting you arranged, cancel it yourself.”

  Otis sucked at his teeth as he rocked in his wood-slatted rocker. For anyone else, the rocker would sit on a front porch. For Otis, it sat in front of the woodstove. No cushion for comfort. The ancient knitted blanket on his knees was a recent addition. Along with the hacking cough that was never going to go away. “I didn’t expect a girl.”

  Jed looked out the window once more. From his angle, he could see the back of her copper-colored head and a bit of shoulder outlined in sleek black leather. If she sat there five more minutes, he was going back out there, no matter how pissed off Otis got.

  “Man. Woman.” Which April Reed definitely was. “Does it make any difference, Otis? We both know you’re not gonna sell. Particularly to a developer.” God knew they’d had enough arguments about it, especially in the last few years.

  The only sound that came from Otis’s direction was the rhythmic creak of wood runners on the wood floor.

  Jed grimaced. “Stubborn old man.”

  The creaking didn’t hesitate. “Keeps me alive, boy.”

  For how much longer?

  Jed didn’t ask the question. He didn’t want to hear the answer. Ornery or not, Otis was the last thing left in the world that Jed cared about and he was dying. Dying because he wouldn’t seek the medical care that he’d probably needed since before Jed had met him five years ago.

  But he didn’t have to test Otis’s temper, because the redhead was moving finally. Standing.

  She walked back to the door and he expected to hear a knock, but none came. Instead, after a moment she headed back to the steps, avoiding the rotten boards that Jed needed to repair once the weather finally improved. Then he caught a glimpse of her again, walking toward the road.

  Tall. Slender. Dressed in a trim jacket and sexy-as-hell boots.

  She looked like she belonged on a magazine cover. Or in an office cracking out orders to her minions.

  Instead, she was being snubbed by a cantankerous old man.

  As he watched, she slung her briefcase strap across her chest like a messenger bag and pulled something from it.

  A cell phone, he realized, watching her hold it out in front of her. She was obviously taking pictures. Maybe recording video. Her arm panned around until she was aiming it toward the cabin. He didn’t worry about her seeing him from his vantage point inside.

  Eventually, she panned the other direction and started making her way down the road again. When she was out of sight entirely, he went to the front door and pulled it open.

  The business card she’d tucked in the doorjamb slid free and landed on the floor near his boot.

  He picked it up and read the embossed black printing. It told him little more than what she’d told him outside. April Reed. Stanton Development. Denver, Colorado.

  On the reverse, she’d written a telephone number and a brief note.

  “She’s going to be back,” he told Otis. He wasn’t sure if he was glad about that or not.

  “How do you know?”

  He flicked the business card onto Otis’s lap. “She told you so.”

  Otis harrumphed. He looked at the note. “You can deal with her.”

  “She’s not my problem.”

  “She is if I say she is.” Otis smiled slyly. “That bother you for some reason? Been a while since you’ve gotten off the mountain to see a woman.”

  “It’s been a while since I’ve gotten off the mountain because I’ve been stuck up here all winter with you.”

  “All the more reason.” He waved the note. “You know how to make a business deal. Or have you forgotten?”

  Jed ignored the dig. “You’re not going to make a deal with anyone and we both know it. I run the Rad for you, Otis. But that doesn’t make me your lackey.” He headed out of the room.

  “Where you going?” Otis’s querulous voice followed him.

  “To take care of the stuff you do pay me for.”

  Chapter Two

  “Well? How’d it go?”

  April made a face at her friend Piper Madison and began shrugging out of her jacket as she slipped onto the barstool next to her. “It didn’t.”

  They were at Colbys Bar & Grill, which was doing brisk business for a Thursday afternoon.

  Piper looked sympathetic. “Sorry. I know you hate disappointing that sexy boss of yours.”

  April rolled her eyes. “That’s what I get for introducing you when you came to visit.”

  Piper chuckled. “You’re probably the only female on the planet who wouldn’t be attracted to Gage Stanton. Tall, dark, rich?”

  “How about demanding, a perfectionist and arrogant?”

  “Sounds like someone I used to know.” The pretty blonde owner of Colbys stopped in front of them on the other side of the bar. “Let me guess.” Jane’s smile was wry. “Talking about your boss? How is it working for Gage?”

  April figured her smile was equally wry. She knew that Jane and Gage had been briefly married ages ago, before Jane had moved to Weaver. Long before she’d married April’s cousin Casey Clay. “Never dull, that’s for sure.”

  Jane chuckled. “So, what can I get you?”

  “Just some coffee to start.” Deciding she was too chilly, she pulled her jacket back on. “What’s the special for lunch today?”

  “Chicken enchiladas.”

  “They’re good, too. Had them last week,” Piper offered. She already had a salad in front of her that she’d partially consumed.

  “Enchiladas it is,” April told Jane. “How’s life with my cousin and those babies?” Casey and Jane had recently adopted twins.

  Ja
ne winked as she keyed in the order. “Never dull, that’s for sure.” She turned up a mug in front of April and filled it with coffee. She wiped the gleaming wood bar top with her towel. “Piper, you need a refill?”

  “Not yet.” Piper waited until Jane had moved down the bar again before she spoke. “I completely forget that Jane was ever married to Gage. Criminy. Where’s the fairness in life? I can’t get a date, and she has had not one hottie hubby, but two.”

  “You most certainly can get a date,” April chided.

  “Sure, if I lived somewhere other than Weaver,” Piper complained. “Here, I’ll forever be just the preacher’s kid who teaches sixth grade.”

  “Then move to Denver,” April said immediately. “You can split the ridiculous rent on my apartment with me.”

  “Much as I love that fancy loft of yours, you know I can’t.”

  “I know you won’t,” April countered without heat. “So stop complaining. If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a hundred times. If there is someone you want to date, ask him. You don’t have to wait around waiting to be asked.”

  “Too bad all women don’t have your confidence. You’ve always had guys falling at your feet, too. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re tall, svelte and redheaded while I am a short, round and forgettable brownette.”

  April couldn’t help but laugh. “You exaggerate more than anyone I’ve ever known.” She was tall, but keeping from looking like a living scarecrow was as much a problem for her as Piper’s lifelong battle against the fifteen extra pounds she didn’t want.

  Her friend’s eyes were twinkling. “It’s not an exaggeration when it comes to Mr. Perfect Financial Planner.”

  April sighed faintly and stirred milk into her coffee. “Kenneth was fun, but—”

  “He made the ultimate mistake. He got serious and you didn’t.”

  “Unlike you, I’m not interested in settling down yet.” She started to lift her coffee, but set it down again. “Who proposes to a woman they’ve only been dating a few months? We never even slept together.” Exasperation suddenly churned inside her because she knew she’d hurt Kenneth, no matter how unintentionally. “I mean, really. Who would take a proposal like that seriously?”

  Unfazed by April’s waving hands, Piper pushed her salad to the side and scooped up a blob of guacamole with a tortilla chip. “All the people who’ve fallen in love at first sight? Maybe Kenneth’s just the old-fashioned type.” She popped the chip in her mouth and crunched on it.

  “No man I’ve ever met is that old-fashioned.” April exhaled. Piper might lament her romantic vacuum, but on a daily basis, she successfully corralled a roomful of hormonal preadolescents. What was one agitated redhead? Piper’s equanimity was soothing.

  “Well, I forever live in hope that there are a few old-fashioned guys still out there,” Piper said wryly. She took another scoop of guacamole, this time eschewing the chip and going straight at it with the tip of her fork. “But back to your meeting. What do you mean, it didn’t?”

  “I mean I never even had a chance to see Otis Lambert.” Jed Dalloway’s face swam inside April’s head. She shivered and not even wrapping her hands around the hot coffee mug helped. “Did you know the road up to his place is blocked off? Probably a half mile back from the house. There was obviously a rockslide at some point. Huge boulders on the road. The wood barricades look like they’ve been there awhile.”

  “Since there’s never been any reason for me to drive up there, no, I didn’t know. So when he set the meeting, he didn’t mention it.”

  “Nope.” She stretched out one leg. “Had to walk the rest of the way in these.”

  “You’ve routinely worn four-inch heels since you earned your first paycheck. You expect sympathy?”

  April grinned. “Obviously not from you.”

  “So, you hoofed it in high heels and then what?”

  “And then nothing. He wasn’t there. At least that’s what I was told.”

  “By whom?”

  “Jed Dalloway.” She eyed her friend. Except when they’d spent four years as college roommates, Piper had lived her entire life in Weaver. “Have you met him?”

  “Not that I recall. I’ve heard his name, of course, but unless he has kids in school, not much reason I would have.”

  “He didn’t exactly strike me as the family type.”

  Piper chuckled. “Why? Wasn’t he wearing his sign?”

  “Ha ha.” She looked down at her coffee, seeing instead Jed’s dark eyes. “Otis Lambert doesn’t need to post No Trespass signs. All he has to do is post Jed Dalloway on the road.”

  “Off-putting, I take it.”

  “His attitude is.” She shook her head, as if to rid him from her thoughts. “I left my card. Said I’d be back.” She was briefly interrupted when a server delivered her meal. She thanked the teenager, and began unfolding her napkin. “Why did you say of course you’ve heard his name?”

  “Jed Dalloway’s name?” Piper shrugged. “You know this town. Everyone hears about everyone, sooner or later. You want that black olive?” She was reaching even before April shook her head and Piper popped it in her mouth. “Ooh, hot.” She chewed quickly, gingerly. “Heard he’s from Chicago or thereabouts. Some scandal involved. So they say.”

  “They being the grapes on Weaver’s prolific vine?”

  “You know it.” Piper dashed her fingertips with her napkin. Her smile was mischievous. “Not that I listen to gossip.”

  April’s lips twitched. “Of course not.” She cut into her steaming enchiladas. “So what is the good gossip around town?”

  “As usual, half of it involves members of your family. You think I’m going to say?”

  April laughed. “Now I know you’re exaggerating.”

  Piper chuckled. “Maybe a little.” She glanced at her watch. “I have fifteen minutes before I need to be back at school for a teachers meeting. Pick a category.” She held up her hand. “Money problems? Marital discord?” She ticked them off on her fingers. “Politics? Sex scandals?”

  “Oh for Pete’s sake. Sex scandals?”

  “Just because we’re small town, doesn’t mean we’re not keeping up with the Joneses. There’s a rumor that Vivian Templeton is paying for more than architectural designs when it comes to the new town library she’s trying to get built.”

  April rolled her eyes. Vivian Templeton was the sister-in-law of Squire Clay’s deceased first wife. Even though she’d never met the woman herself, she knew Vivian had to be well in her eighties. Maybe more. April wasn’t related to her, but her mom’s stepbrothers were. Which meant the wealthy eccentric was family of a sort. “I have a hard time imagining it, but Vivian’s first husband made his fortune in steel. Supposedly she can afford whatever she wants to spend her money on, so if she’s not hurting anyone, who cares? I mean other than Squire.” Her grandfather held a grudge against Vivian over a supposed insult to his first wife.

  Piper shrugged. “Beck’s firm is handling the design.”

  That was news. “People think Beck would cha-cha with an elderly rich lady when he has my cousin at home? Talk about ridiculous.”

  “He’s not the only architect at his firm.”

  “Yeah, there’s Nick,” she said dismissively. “Can’t see that one, either.” Nick was Beck’s son from his first marriage. “He’s two years younger than me.”

  Piper spread her hands. “I’m just the messenger. So, what’s your plan with Mr. Lambert?”

  “I’ll go back tomorrow. And the next day. And the next if I have to.”

  “That would be Sunday. Easter Sunday.”

  April made a face. “Okay, maybe not Easter Sunday.”

  “How long’re you planning to be in town?”

  “Depends on how things go. I’m meeting with Archer Templeton next Tuesday.” The attorney practiced in Colorado and Wyoming and,
among other things, represented Stanton Development in both states. “He’s doing research on possible claims that might arise against the Rambling Rad.”

  Piper rolled her eyes. “Another hottie. Man, you do get all the luck.”

  April made a face. “Archer’s cut from the same cloth as my boss. Not my type. At all.”

  “Do you even know what your type is?”

  Once again, Jed’s face flitted through her mind. Strong legs braced and short dark hair whipping in the wind.

  Fortunately, Piper was pulling out her wallet and didn’t seem to think anything about April’s lack of an answer. “Just stay long enough that we can get together again before you leave.”

  “I will. And put your money away. I told you I’d get lunch.”

  “Just because you earn three times as much as I do and have a trust fund the size of Alaska doesn’t mean I can’t buy my own lunch.”

  “That’s true.” April plucked the wallet out of her friend’s hands and zipped it shut again. “But I’ve got per diem expense money to use up one way or another and staying at the big house means either buying you a bunch of lunches or going shopping. I’ll never use up the funds otherwise.”

  Piper grinned. “Life is really rough working for that sexy developer of yours.” She put away her wallet and slid off the barstool. She gave April a quick hug and gathered up her belongings before sending a wave toward Jane as she pulled on her coat and left.

  When her friend was gone, April turned back to her sufficiently cooled enchiladas. When she finished eating, she pushed the plate aside and pulled out her phone, studying the photographs she’d taken up on the mountain. She discarded a few, forwarded the rest to her boss and continued reviewing the emails she’d received.

  She’d only gotten through two when her phone vibrated. She swiped the screen and held it to her ear. “That was fast.”

  “Landslide.” Gage’s tone was typically brief and to the point. “Happen often?”

  “I have no idea,” she admitted. “I’ll find out, though.” She could see Jane from the corner of her eye, pulling drinks at the other end of the bar and wondered, not for the first time, if Gage’s ex-wife was one more reason why he hadn’t come to Weaver himself. Jane was now a happily married woman with a family. Gage—for all of his eligible bachelor reputation—had always struck April as distinctly lonely.